


Let's Do The Time Warp Again

by PinkEasterEggs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Depression, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), References to Depression, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18661684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkEasterEggs/pseuds/PinkEasterEggs
Summary: ENDGAME FIX ITPeter is just trying to cope. Too bad, the only way he knows how to cope is by being with Tony. When life seems bleak, thank God the universe was finally on Peter Parker's side. A lot of time travel ensues.





	Let's Do The Time Warp Again

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS!!!

When asked, Peter said he was fine. He was always fine. He’d just shrug and mumble the word as if it actually had any meaning that resembled the truth.

“How are you today, Peter?” His therapist would ask.

“Fine,” Peter would reply.

“You holding up okay kid?” Happy would ask whenever he called (which was a lot, recently).

“Fine,” Peter would mumble down the phone.

“How is everything, baby?” May would whisper as she ran her fingers through his hair on the nights he refused to sleep and found her waiting up for him with a glass of milk and a film ready.

“Fine,” he’d whisper back as he leant into her touch.

“We miss you Peter,” Pepper would say when he visited the Lake House every other weekend to see her and Morgan. “How’s school?”

“Fine,” he’d smile at her with a tight expression before Morgan dragged him off to her room to play Star Wars fights with him (Morgan was always the Sith and Peter the Jedi).

He didn’t talk about the sleepless nights where he stared at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching his fists until the sun rose. He didn’t talk about how little he ate anymore or the headaches that seemed to bombard him each time he did something remotely physical. He didn’t go out as Spider-Man anymore.

He knew everyone was worried. Hell, even Barnes and Wilson had taken it upon themselves to look out for him, inviting him to the new and temporary Avengers base whilst the other one still lay in ruins. Peter always declined their offers, never really feeling in the mood to do anything social. 

Ned, whilst excited to have his best friend back, had started to look at him weirdly. He knew about Mr Stark, everyone did, but he didn’t say anything when Peter sat there in silence every lunchtime, mouth feeling too numb to actually chew his food.

Even Flash hadn’t made one comment to Peter since he’d been back.

It was the long, sleepless nights like these that Peter hated himself. He had no right to feel this way. He had no right to cry and grieve for Mr Stark . . . not when the man had a family of his own. Morgan was his daughter, she was the only one allowed to wallow in the grief and feel the everlasting weight of pure agony weigh down on her. The girl was only 5 and seemed to be handling her father’s death with far more grace than Peter.

Morgan never skipped meals. Morgan never spent hours upon hours crying in the night. Morgan never screamed into her pillow until her voice was raw.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, balling up his fists as he shoved them into his eyes. He couldn’t get the image of Mr Stark laying there, eyes blank, in the middle of the wreckage out of his head. Each time he tried to sleep, he heard the soft exhale of his breath as his head rolled back and his eyes closed shut.

Peter didn’t even think before he threw on his web shooters and climbed out his window. He only had one destination in mind as he shot web after web to sling through the buildings. It was late out, the night dark and the stars barely visible in the sky. At least tomorrow he could go down to the Lake House again and stare at the constellations with Morgan; he always enjoyed it when they did that.

After half an hour, Peter makes it outside the city. It’s comforting, for some reason, the lack of noise that New York City brings: the endless sound of chatter, the squeal of tyres as they turn a corner, arguments down alleys, music blasting from shops. Even at nighttime, the city is alive.

Out of the city, the vibrancy is less so. The only downside is the fact there are no tall buildings to swing from.

After several hours of walking on foot, Peter finally makes it to his destination: the destroyed Avengers compound.

The rubble is still littered everywhere, the smell of smoke having finally cleared away. Bodies had been removed and buried yet the compound still laid in ruins. It had been only a few months since the battle yet no one had been brave enough to begin the clean-up job yet. It sat there like a memory of what had transpired and who they’d lost.

There’s police tape lining the site, warning people not to trespass but Peter ignores it as he walks under it. He can’t help the tears that build up as he walks around around, looking at the ash and rubble. The once magnificent compound had been reduced to nothing but . . . this. It made him sick.

Peter finds the spot he’d been wishing to avoid yet had been drawn to, in seconds. He stares at the concrete where Mr Stark had laid against, arm burnt and eyes dangerously void. He hadn’t even reacted when Peter had knelt down and begged the man to stay.

Peter turns his head to the side, his begs vibrating around in his head like a broken record. He should’ve been stronger for Mr Stark.

He was about to turn away and head back home, having realised this was a mistake, when a sudden flicker caught his eye. A few feet away, hovering in the air is something strange. It flickers and moves like it was drifting in the wind. 

Peter stumbles closer, frowning as he looks at it up close. It was more or less simply: a hole. A tiny hole hovering in the air, black in colour with wisps of white surrounding it. He reaches his hand out, hesitating for a second as he leans forward. Mr Stark would probably yell at him if he saw Peter reaching out to touch something he had no idea what was. Considering aliens had attacked the compound, it probably wasn’t wise to make contact with whatever this was.

But Mr Stark wasn’t here and would never yell at Peter again. He reaches out to touch the hole.

 

——————————

 

Pain. That’s all Peter feels. It feels like he’s being dusted again, his body tearing itself apart as he is twisted and turned and put back together again.

His head pounds, like someone hit him a hundred times with a hammer. Hit after hit after hit. His ears ring, a high pitch sound that only makes the headache worse. It feels like his head exploded and then was sown back together, the pure pain being the only thing he knew for a fact.

Peter’s body hits the ground hard, landing straight on his stomach with a thud and a groan. 

The pain ebbs away to be a dull ache.

 

——————————

 

Peter groans again as he forces himself to sit up. His muscles feel weak like he’d been electrocuted several times and his brain felt like mush. His hands shook as he sat up, the nerves in his fingers tingling with energy.

It took a second for him to recognise where he was. 

The Avengers Compound.

Except, this wasn’t the burning ruins that Peter had trespassed on earlier that night. This was a still standing building with large, marble floors and glass walls looking out on a beautiful view. This was what Peter remembered seeing everyday since Homecoming and before Thanos. 

Back when everything seemed okay.

“Mr Parker, Boss was not expecting you today,” the voice of FRIDAY sounded through the ceiling. It jolted Peter as he sat on the floor, eyes wide. FRIDAY? He hadn’t heard her voice in so long. . .

And did she just say . . .

“W-what?” Peter stumbles out, a lump rising in his throat. One second he’d been in what looked the gates of hell and now here he was: inside the not-destroyed compound with an AI he thought had died with Mr Stark.

“You seemed confused Mr Parker, would you like me to alert Boss of any possible injuries?”

Peter shook his head, the breath knocked out of him for a second. He pushed himself up from his sitting position, his legs wobbling for one second before he managed to catch himself. “N-no, FRIDAY. And call me Peter.” He grabbed his head, wondering if this was some sort of dream.

What had happened?

All Peter remembered was that weird hole and the everything went black . . .

The hole! Maybe this was some sort of alien sorcery? Whatever it was, there was a short flicker of hope brewing in his chest as FRIDAY mentioned a Boss again. Surely that meant. . .

“FRIDAY is Mr Stark here?” He tries to keep the hope out of his voice, biting down on his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s hand shake as he awaits the reply.

“Yes Peter, Boss has been in his lab since noon.”

That was all Peter needed before he sprinted down the compound’s halls towards the beloved lab he used to visit after school. He ignored all the annoyed glances workers threw at him as he legged it down the corridors. Peter brain was focused on only one thing . . .

“Oi Kid! Hey stop!” A familiar voice yelled out to him. Peter paused, chest heaving up and down. He had half a mind to carry on running, the hope mixing with his adrenaline as he itched to find out if this was all fake or possibly the best dream he’d had in months.

Happy was marching his way down the corridor, frown on his face as he glared at Peter. “You know better than to run through these halls, kid.” Happy spoke gruffly. It was so different to the sad, soothing tones Peter heard over the phone every now and then.

“H-Happy?” Peter frowned, holding his side as a stitch teared itself a new one. He hadn’t exercised in months. “W-what you doing here?”

Happy’s eyebrows shot up like he couldn’t believe Peter had the audacity to ask that. “What am i doing here? I’m doing my job. Why are you here, aren’t you at your friends Ted’s tonight?”

“Ned,” Peter correctly automatically. He scratched the back of his head, trying to act natural. “Changed my mind.”

“Yeah well, no running down the corridor kid.” Happy rolled his eyes as he moved to walk away.

“Err Happy—“ Peter called out. He decides to test something. “Tell Morgan we’ll stargaze again this weekend— that’s a promise!”

The man who was normally wrapped around little Morgan Stark’s pinky finger, just gave Peter a dumb expression and a frown. “What? Am i meant to understand that?”

Without another word, Happy walked off. Peter stared at his retreating back, confusion settling in more so now. What was happening? Why didn’t Happy remember Morgan? Was this a dream?

Peter pulls out his phone from his pocket, ignoring the multiple cracks on the screen. He was about to phone May and ask her what was going on. Surely May would remember Morgan, right?

And then his eyes catch the date on the lock screen. 2017. One whole year before Thanos. . . 6 years before Tony dies.

Ignoring Happy’s words, Peter sprints back down the halls towards where he knew Tony to be. The lab is just how he remembered it: large, with many tables littered with different tech and the glass doors lining the entire room. Before he even entered the room, Peter can see Tony sitting at a table, head bent low as he fiddles with something Iron Man themed.

Peter pinches his skin, his breathing becoming erratic as he stares at the man through the glass. This wasn’t a dream. Not even in the nicest of dreams could he have conjured this up, even asleep his brain knew not to think of Tony. It only made it more painful when he woke up.

With shaky steps, Peter walks over to the door, typing in the access code he doubted he could ever forget. The door handle is cold under his fingers, the metal getting crushed slightly as he momentarily forgets his powers. Peter’s throat is dry as he works up the courage to open the door, stepping into the lab he thought he’d never seen again.

And talk to the man he’d been forced to say goodbye to.

“Hey Pete,” Tony doesn’t turn his head to greet him, instead keeping it low as he fiddles with the Iron Man gauntlet. “FRIDAY said you were here; what happened to Ned’s?”

Peter swallows loudly, lip trembling as he stands in the doorway. It feels like swallowing sandpaper, the feeling making him cough as his breathing hitches again. 

Tony turns his head in Peter’s direction now, looking concerned at the lack of reply. Peter’s obviously weird behaviour only makes the frown more prominent. “Pete? You okay?”

Peter doesn’t say anything, instead trying to keep himself from breathing too harshly and fainting. This couldn’t actually be Tony, right? The weird alien hole must’ve made him delusional.

“Pete?” Tony stands up now, making his way over the lab to stand in front of Peter. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” A look of panic flicks up into Tony’s eyes as he looks over Peter for any obvious signs of injury.

Feeling like a statue, Peter breaks out of his trance and shakes his head. Tears pool up in his eyes at seeing Tony only a space away from him. The man looks younger— less burdened. There is no grey in his hair and the dark bags under his eyes that Peter had seen on the battlefield were mostly gone. Tony looked far more refreshed and relaxed than when Peter had last seen him.

The sickly shade his skin had gone when the Infinity Stones had sucked the life out of him was replaced by a peachy, far healthier glow.

He looked like the Tony Peter had been missing for months now. The only Tony that Peter would allow himself to remember.

“I-I’m fine Mr Stark,” Peter repeated the same word he’d been telling everyone for months. He was fine, everything was fine, school was fine, life was fine.

But where May, Happy, Pepper and his therapist just nodded with a sad look or a quiet ‘that’s good’, Tony cut into his bullshit as he shook his head, hand landing on Peter’s shoulder.

“No you’re not kid, what gives?” 

Peter bites his lip, the weight of Tony’s hand on his shoulder grounding him. The physical affection reminds him that for whatever reason, this was real.

He leaps forward, wrapping his arms around Tony’s torso and pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Immediately, he’s bombarded with smell: engine oil and expensive cologne. This was Tony. This was Mr Stark.

Peter cries, ignoring Mr Stark’s worried questions and how he tensed up as Peter threw himself onto him. Peter cries until he had no more tears left and his face is red and splotchy. It’s the first time he’d cried since the funeral.

For the first time in months, Peter allows himself not to be fine.

Because the only man who could make him feel better was finally there.

 

——————————

 

“Hand me the screwdriver, kid.” Tony’s hand came out from under the car. Peter was sitting on the floor, leaning on the bumper as he listened to the sound of Tony work. After his impromptu breakdown to which Tony had to be reassured by both Peter and FRIDAY that the kid wasn’t actually dying, Peter had mumbled a lie about school being rough and apologised for crying. Tony had brushed it off, ruffling Peter’s hair before suggesting they work on a car.

Peter handed over the screwdriver to Tony’s waiting hand, finally smiling for the first time in months. He hadn’t felt this happy since before Thanos. It felt so natural to sit here and work on a car with his mentor.

He wasn’t sure how this had happened or why he was here but Peter was glad. He thanked that alien hole for giving him Tony back.

It was another 20 minutes before Tony rolled out from under the car and declared it was time for dinner. “Four Pizzas FRIDAY, you know the drill,” he called to the AI as he wiped his hands clean with a rag. 

Peter pulled himself up, eyes following his mentor’s every move. If he didn’t think too hard, he could almost pretend that everything that happened over the next year (which had been 6 years for those not dusted) had never happened at all.

“Why you staring so hard, kid?” Tony looked at him questioningly. “I got something on my face?”

“What?” Peter snaps out of his trance, shaking his head wildly. “No, no, no! You’re perfect Mr Stark— ah, i don’t mean it like that— not that you aren’t! I was just—“

“Woah kid,” Tony laughed, throwing the rag away. “Don’t bust a lung.”

Peter nodded, his eyes still fixated on Tony’s face. He thought if he stared long enough then his nightmares of Tony’s ashen skin and blank eyes would get replaced by the vibrant and lively brown eyes before him.

“There’s something different about you kiddo,” Tony pointed at him, a look of confusion spread over his face. “You look . . . older? You’re slightly taller too; did you have a growth spurt since our last lab session?”

He didn’t know what to say. ‘Actually i am older— by over a year!’ he didn’t want to ruin the fun he’d had with Tony today by recounting all that had happened in his past (or Tony’s future). The thought of this Tony with his jokey smile and happy eyes being told about the threat of Thanos, the dusting and then his death; it broke Peter’s heart.

Instead, he just smiled and shrugged.

 

——————————

 

Halfway through eating the ordered pizza, Peter begins to hate himself again. He had no right to be here and to see Tony. Why did he get the chance to see the man and not Pepper or Morgan? Morgan had more right to be here, to see her dad. 

Not Peter.

Out of everyone who had lost Tony, Morgan trumped them all. Pepper had lost her husband, yes, Happy and Rhodey had lost their friend, yes. But Morgan had lost her father. 

Peter had no right to cry and complain about what he’d lost when Morgan had lost more.

He had no right to be here at all.

 

——————————

 

They’d just finished the pizza when the pain began to blossom in Peter’s head and chest again. A burning sensation began to bloom behind his eyes, making Peter bite his lip to stop from crying out. It felt like his head was being torn apart and ripped to pieces.

“I’m going to the restroom,” he choked out as Tony continued to work on more tech.

“Okay kiddo,” the man replied with ease.

Peter stumbled out of the lab, the urge to vomit filing him up as the pain spread to his chest, his heart rate increasing like an earthquake about to tear his chest apart. His vision started to swim, the ground becoming increasingly close as he tried his hardest to keep moving.

His fingers started to tingle as electricity jolted down his spine and his entire body began to shake. It felt like someone was hitting him with a stun gun, his muscles twisting and moving out of place.

His body hit the ground, the headache splitting his brain apart. Peter closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly in the hopes that he’d wake up and everything would be fine.

He breathed out a sigh of relief when everything went black.

 

——————————

 

He was back in the compound’s rubble. The smell of despair and the remains of a fire filled his nose like a bomb. Peter choked, his head pressed down in the ruins. His face was covered in ash and soot but he didn’t care.

What the hell had happened?

In front of where he lay was the weird black hole that he’d touched. It floated there, menacing yet comforting. Peter almost wanted to touch it again.

The night had passed by now, the sun was high in the sky and the sound of birds chirping wasn’t too far away. He pushed himself up, ignoring the ache of his bones as he got to his feet. Peter almost stumbled but he managed to hold himself up at the last second.

He pulled out his phone from his back pocket, frowning when he read the date. 2023. It still blew Peter’s mind that 5 years had passed since the snap. He was still only just turned 17 yet around half of his old classmates were now finishing college and starting families. At least Ned was still the same age.

“Shit,” Peter mumbled as he scrolled through his call history. May had called him 4 times, Happy twice and even Pepper had texted to ask where he was. Peter shook his head, walking away from the alien hole as he headed back towards the city. Now that it was daytime, he couldn’t swing through the streets or people would actually be able to see his face. 

Peter hated how he made everyone worried now. Pepper had enough on her hands, being a widow and single mum after all. She didn’t need to worry about him. 

Even poor Happy didn’t deserve it. The former driver should be focused on Morgan and not him. Morgan was the one who needed the support and Peter was hogging it all up by making all the adults around him worry.

He was back in the city when he finally worked up the courage to call May. The phone rang once before his Aunt’s panicked voice cut through the speaker.

“Peter? Peter, where are you? Baby, where did you go? Are you alright? Peter, answer me!”

He sighed, having half the mind to hang up. Peter could still feel Mr Stark’s hand on his shoulder and the smell of engine oil on his clothes. It felt like his throat was closing up when he replied.

“I’m sorry May, i had to get some air.”

“O-okay, that’s okay Peter; just text me next time you go out. Please?” The way her voice still sounded panicked, like she’d been imagining the worst, made Peter hate himself more.

“Okay, i’m sorry May.”

“You’re coming home now baby, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, i’m quite far; i’ll be back in an maybe an hour and a half?”

“Be safe baby, i love you.”

“Larb you,” Peter sighed before hanging up.

It felt like all he was good for was letting people down lately.

 

——————————

 

“Hey kid, want a ride?” Happy pulled up on the curb beside Peter, the car moving at a leisurely crawl to match the teenage boy’s short steps.

Peter turned and stared at the man he’d not seen for a while now. After the funeral, Happy had buried himself in work. Apart from a call every now and then, Peter hadn’t seen much of him. Happy looked more or less the same as usual, greying hair and a slight frown on his face.

Peter was tempted to say no and walk off but there was something different in Happy’s expression. Gone was the exasperated look of annoyance that Peter had grown accustomed to. Instead, Happy almost looked more humbled when he stared at Peter. A complete difference to the Happy Peter had seen when he’d touched the alien hole.

“Okay,” Peter climbed into the passenger side, having forgone the days of sitting in the back. At least now he didn’t have to walk for hours to get back to Queens.

“How’d you know where i was?” Peter frowned, as he stared out the window. He lent his head on the glass and watched as cars slowly passed them in the busy city traffic. 

“May called,” Happy replied; he didn’t sound worried but Peter could tell that something was bothering him. There was an agitation in the way he drove and gripped the wheel until his knuckles were white. “We didn’t want you walking so i decided to come out and get you.”

“Did you track my phone?” Peter couldn’t even bring himself to feel angry as the man refused to reply, therefore answering the question itself. It was such a Mr Stark thing to do. The thought made him want to cry as he closed his eyes, head still pressed against the glass.

“We’re worried about you kid,” Happy speaks up after the several minutes of silence. He sounds different to how Peter has always remembered him. There’s a softness in his tone. It sounds like the way he would talk to Morgan to cheer the girl up.

“Why? I’m fine,” Peter shrugs, squeezing his eyes tighter. God, he was exhausted. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep until the world just fizzled away and he could forget about all the bad things that had happened. His parents, Ben, Liz’s dad, getting dusted, Tony . . .

It just felt like too much.

“You’re not fine kid,” Happy sighed. “We can all see it.”

Peter scoffs, opening his eyes to roll them. He leans back in his seat, setting Happy with a frown. It made sense that everyone seemed to be conspiring around him, discussing his problems without him there to rebuke him.

“And whose we?”

He knows who Happy is about to say before the man says it. “Well, me, your Aunt, Pepper, Rhodey. . . even Doctor Strange asks about you from time to time. Bucky and Wilson have expressed wanting you to come visit some time soon. We all care kid.”

Peter scoffs again, placing a hand on his forehead as he groans. Why didn’t they get it? “You’re all focusing on me when you shouldn’t!”

“Who should we be focusing on?” Happy sends him a confused frown.

“Well,” Peter speaks like it’s obvious. “Morgan, for one!”

“We are focusing on Morgan,” Happy sounds more confused now. “Everyone is looking after her too. But just because we want to look out for Morgan, doesn’t mean we don’t or can’t look out for you too.”

The strain behind Peter’s eyes gets worse as he tries to control his trembling voice. “You don’t need to look out for me!” His voice raised. “I’m fine Happy— seriously! Morgan lost more than me, she needs all the help you can give her! Stop wasting your time on me!” 

“Hey,” Happy snaps, eyes darting to Peter and then the road. “You lost just as much as Morgan, kid.”

“Did i?” Peter glares at him. “Because Morgan lost her father.”

“Kid, we all know—“

“I don’t want to talk anymore Happy,” Peter leans his head back on the glass. The coldness of it seems to ground him, stemming the tears that he can feel threatening to fall. It feels like years of tense silence passes before Happy finally pulls up outside Peter’s apartment building. He numbly thanks the man for the lift as he undos his seatbelt and climbs out the car.

“Kid,” Happy calls before Peter can slam the door and stalk off. “Tony . . . he cared for you very deeply, you know that right? He loved you Peter.”

Peter doesn’t reply as he slams the door shut.

 

——————————

 

“He loved you Peter,” the words circle around his head from the second they leave Happy’s mouth. Even in the dead of night when his clock reads past 12 and his room is pitch black, the words seem to go round and round like vultures, picking on his already declining sanity.

“He loved you Peter.”

Peter doesn’t know how he was meant to feel at that statement. Happy? Because Tony had loved him. Or sad? Because the man had died before he could tell Peter that himself. Or maybe Happy had told Peter that to give him some acceptance? Tony was dead but he’d loved him so that should make the grieving process easier, right?

“He loved you Peter.”

There had always been an inkling in Peter’s mind that Tony had cared about him. Simply by the fact that the man had been there, throughout all his superhero triumphs and fails as well as the Peter Parker accomplishments and tribulations. Tony had always been there. And now he wasn’t.

Mr Stark had always listened to his rants when Peter went off a spiel that no one could pull him out of. He’d ordered food and watched movies with him when Peter’s day had been bad or school had been hard. He’d taught him a million and one things about engineering, being patient the entire time he taught Peter something new.

Mr Stark had called him Kid, Kiddo, Petey-pie, Pete, Spider-baby, Underoos. . . 

He’d ruffled his hair and smiled when Peter said something to make the man laugh. He’d helped Peter out with school projects and helped improved his Spanish grade. He’d told Peter to stand up for himself when Flash bullied him and even threatened to call the school.

Peter’s words from earlier came crashing back: “Morgan lost her father”

Yeah, Morgan’s Dad died but so did Peter’s. 

He’s already climbing out the window, mind set on getting back to the alien hole thing once more.

 

——————————

 

“Your back again kid,” Tony seems surprised as Peter walks into the lab. “Not that i don’t love having you but have you forgotten that we have scheduled lab days?”

Peter shrugs, taking a seat next to the man. “I wanted to see you.”

“Naturally,” Tony jokes with a smirk. “Everything okay at home with May?”

“Yeah, why?”

Mr Stark stares at him a second before turning back to whatever it was he was working on. It looked like nanotech to Peter. “Just asking.”

“Hey Mr Stark, can you help me?”

Tony put down all his tools the second Peter asked, turning in his chair with a frown. “Sure kiddo, what’s wrong?”

“I have a Spanish quiz next week and i’m kinda stressing,” Peter lied. He feared Tony would roll his eyes and go back to his tech but of course, the man didn’t.

“Want me to run it over with you?” Tony moves his chair over, grabbing a spare piece of paper and a pen as he sits back down. Peter can smell the expensive cologne wafting off him . . . the smell makes him feel more peace than he ever imagined.

Peter nodded, eyes never leaving Tony’s face as the man began to teach him.

This is what contentment feels like, Peter realised.

 

——————————

 

Peter visited Tony every night. He’d wait until his clock turned 12 before crawling out of his window into the pitch black streets and beginning the long trek to the ruined Avengers compound. He’d touch the floaty alien hole, scream in agony as his body was ripped apart and stitched back together into a different time and then head off to the lab.

They never talked about serious things; instead Peter would just watch his mentor work. He’d talk to Tony like the man had never died and Peter had never been dusted for 5 years. 

It felt like old times.

Every. Single. Night.

 

——————————

 

“Peter, i’m worried about you,” May spoke up one night when they were eating Thai. She didn’t look up at him, instead keeping her head low and on her food as she talked. The words shocked him, forcing him to blink several times and frown.

“Why? I’m fine—“

“You aren’t fine, Peter!” May looks up, her eyes swimming in tears and concern. There’s an edge to her voice now, like she was down beating around the bush. “You sneak out every night and it’s not to be Spider-Man because there’s been no sighting of him months. You hardly engage in conversations anymore; you haven’t returned Happy’s calls in weeks! You ignore each offer from Mr Barnes and Mr Wilson to see you. You’ve even been cutting down on going to the Lake House— Pepper says Morgan misses you.”

“I don’t want to talk May,” Peter sighs, continuing to eat.

“Well tough, because we are.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say?”

“Peter, i want you to tell me the truth! Tell me how you’re feeling! How you’re hurting! Because baby, you are hurting. And it’s killing me that you won’t talk about it.”

“I have a therapist May, i talk in the sessions.”

“And is it working?”

Peter didn’t reply, he was tired of lying.

“Exactly,” May sighed. “Maybe talking to me will do you more good?”

“What’s the point?” Peter was suddenly angry, slamming his chop sticks down. “Talking doesn’t change things! Even if i talk and cry, Mr Stark will still be dead!”

“It will help you deal with the loss—“

“I am dealing with the loss! Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean i’m not dealing with it!” 

Peter ignores her yells as he stands up from the table, his hands shaking with anger. He starts to run when May’s calls of his name get louder; despite the stitch in his side and the feeling of being weighed down by something on his chest. Peter doesn’t stop running until he can no longer hear Aunt May.

He didn’t want to talk, why couldn’t anyone see that? He saw no point in a therapist or unleashing his emotions on May.

Peter just wanted Tony— why was that so hard to understand?

 

——————————

 

The next time Peter visits Tony, somethings different. FRIDAY seems confused when he lands on the marble floors, his bones still spasming. Peter doesn’t pay much attention to it as he picks himself up, already on his way to the lab.

He was about to enter in the lab code, his hand on the door, when realisation struck him cold in the chest. A buzz of energy runs up his spine, his bones acting on reflex as he ducks and hides behind the stairs leading to the lab. 

There on the other side of the glass is Tony Stark and himself.

Or at least the younger version of himself. Pre-Titan, pre-dusting, pre-mourning Peter. A Peter who was unfazed and happy.

Peter of the future stood and watched as an oblivious younger version of himself laughed and joked around with Tony. They were working on one of the web shooters, upgrading the tech and testing it out every now and then.

Future Peter watched as Past Peter shot out a web, it accidentally hitting Tony in the face. Peter of the past looked traumatised as he apologised, despite the small grin growing on his lips. Tony just rolled his eyes, reaching out to ruffle Past Peter’s hair and probably make a quip. 

Future Peter stood there, a small but sad smile on his face, until his bones began to ache and his head was ready to split open. He missed how things had been.

 

——————————

 

“Peter!” Morgan screamed from somewhere in the house, the second the teenager knocked on the door. Less than a minute later, the door was being thrust open as little Morgan Stark stood before him, a large grin on her face and her eyes wide. “You finally came!” She jumped forward, tackling him in a hug.

He used his enhanced strength to help pick her up, resting her on his hip as he arms circled his neck, her face pressing against his shoulder.

“I promised i would,” Peter held her close, leaning his head on hers so their hair was touching. 

“You didn’t come two weeks ago,” Morgan pouted, still seemingly upset about his absence. 

“I’m sorry,” he decided to just go straight to the apology. Morgan was quick to forgive and forget but she always appreciated the apology. “I’m now at least.”

“Finally,” Morgan huffed before her attitude changed and she shuffled her face closer to Peter’s neck. “Mummy’s been worried about you.”

Peter moves to sit down on the sofa, Morgan now in his lap. “Why’s that?” He plays innocent even though he knows why Pepper has been worrying about him. 

“I hear her on the phone with May sometimes,” Morgan admits. “They don’t think you’re coping very well.”

It feels like a slap to the face that a 5 year old girl who lost her father several months ago is the one to point out that Peter, a teenage boy, isn’t coping very well. Peter knew Morgan was an amazing child: smart, funny and kind. But he truly admired her strength more than anything. 

5 years old, having lost a parent and she was truly working through it like a champ. Not that she didn’t have her bad times; Peter had been present for more than a few temper tantrums and sobbing fits. But Morgan had seemed to grasp the one concept that Peter was struggling with: despite the loss of Tony, there were still people around who were there and cared.

“Peter!” Pepper walked in the room, her expression surprised before warmth overtook it. She made her way over, brushing some of his hair out of his face before sitting beside him on the sofa. “I’m so glad you came this weekend.”

“Peter promises not to miss another weekend, don’t you Petey?” Morgan looks at Peter with the same eyes Tony had once had. The same light brown that seemed to melt Peter’s heart and make him feel like a 15 year old kid being taken under the wing of a superhero again.

His neck felt stiff as he nodded, not trusting his voice. That seemed enough for Morgan, returning back to pressing her face by his neck. 

“No lying,” she mumbled into his neck.

If someone had asked 15 year old just-been-given-a-Spider-suit Peter Parker what he envisioned his life to be like in several years time, he never would’ve replied with his current reality. Pre-spider bite Peter Parker would’ve choked at the idea of sitting on Pepper Stark’s sofa with Morgan Stark drawing comfort from him, her little arms around his neck in a vice grip.

But then pre-spider bite and 15 year old Peter Parker would never have imagined Tony Stark dead too.

 

——————————

 

Peter decides to but the bullet the next time the pain overcomes him and he starts to leave Tony’s lab for what feels like the 50th time since he discovered the alien floaty hole.

He takes one deep breath, hand on the lab door as Tony keeps his head bent low on his tech, not paying any attention. The pain in his head is getting worse by the second, the dizziness forcing him to hold himself up less he fall.

“Mr Stark,” Peter calls out, ready to bolt the second he says what he wants to say. Tony hums in answer.

“I love you.”

He’s out the door and stumbling away to allow the pain to overcome him before he even spots the way Tony’s hands freeze. He doesn’t wait for a reply.

 

——————————

 

Tony’s standing there in the lab, arms crossed and a frown on his face, the next time Peter visits. The elder man is facing the door, watching with scrutiny as Peter enters the code and walks in. It feels like at the beginning of their relationship when Peter was still starstruck by his hero, his every move heavily analysed and in a constant state of nervousness.

“Uhh, hi Mr Stark?” He steps a little closer before stopping a few feet away from where Tony was still staring him down.

“What’s going on?” Tony glares now, one of his hands coming up to grasp his left wrist. “Something is up and i want the truth.”

“Mr Stark?”

“No, don’t you ‘Mr Stark’ me,” Tony snaps, beginning to pace. He seems angry but Peter can see that confusion is what is driving him. “You come to my lab almost every day now Peter! There’s nothing wrong with that kiddo— it’s just . . . you’re different. You act like a completely different person half the time and i just don’t know what to make of it!”

“What do you mean?” Peter takes a step back. Has Mr Stark worked it out? Would he have to stop coming here? Peter severely hoped not. He didn’t think he could lose Tony twice.

“Every scheduled lab day you come in,” Tony ranted, still pacing back and forth. “You’re this excitable 15 year old who squeaks when he gets worked up and overworks himself until he’s near passing out . . . and then every day other than the scheduled lab days, you come in . . . different. You look older, you even sound older and you’re taller! You look at me like you’re trying to remember my face and talk to me like you’ve known me for years.

And then you go and drop the L word on me, running out before i can even reply. So naturally, i bring it up with you the next day, on a scheduled lab day, and you have no idea what i’m on about! I thought ‘hey maybe the kid is just embarrassed’ but you honestly had no clue what i was saying. So tell me Peter, what’s going on?”

Peter opens his mouth to lie. The words ‘Mr Stark, you sound crazy!’ are on his lips but they die the second his mouth parts. All he can see when he looks at Tony are the brown eyes of Morgan. How she’d asked him not to lie.

He stumbles back a bit, feeling like a trapped animal. Peter wants to run, he wants to take to the hills and get away but the thought of doing so brought tears to his eyes at the fact he’d never see Tony again.

“I’m Peter,” he whispers, tears pooling up in his eyes. It isn’t a lie.

“You’re not my Peter though, are you?”

Peter just shakes his head.

 

——————————

 

He tells Tony everything. 

Peter recounts the events of everything that happened from his point of view. He tells Tony about how he was going on his school trip when the aliens invaded and how he’d stopped his mentor getting hit by one of the large, creepy alien things. He tells him about Doctor Strange and sneaking on the spaceship (which Tony groans at).

Peter tells him about his Alien inspired plan and meeting the Guardians. Titan. The dusting. 

And then he tells him about waking up on Titan like one would awaken from a nap, only for Mr Stark not to be there. Mr Strange saying it’s been 5 years. The portal. The battle.

He tries not to cry (and fails) as he talks about their hug, how safe he’d felt. How whole. The gauntlet. Meeting Captain Marvel.

And then he sobs. 

He can’t hold it back as he remembers how Mr Stark had looked so deadly pale, his breathing shallow as Peter had begged him to stay. How Pepper had told him it was okay. How Mr Stark had let out one last breath before Peter had lost him forever.

He wipes his face as he talks about the funeral. Morgan. All the Avengers paying their respects. Pepper telling him he was apart of the family. The alien hole he found.

When he’s done, Mr Stark just stands there, a look of angst yet compassion on his face. It makes Peter cry again.

Strong arms envelope him. As the pain surrounds him, his skin feeling like it was being burnt off over and over again, Peter just stays in Mr Stark’s arms.

This was their final goodbye.

 

——————————

 

Peter’s head breaks apart, his fingers and muscles twitching as the pain becomes him. He lets out a scream, his voice being crushed and torn apart. 

His limbs feel disconnected from his body, his blood feeling like currents of electricity that runs through him, sending jolts outwards. He chokes, squeezing his eyes tight as his head implodes and fixes itself again.

Peter feels broken. His heart beats at an unsafe level, stopping then starting. Every atom of his body is on fire.

He slams down on the ground, mind going blank as the pain begins to ebb away.

 

——————————

 

“Kid, kid wake up,” the words drift into Peter’s brain as he slowly begins to stir. He can feel a hand in his hair, as someone pushes his locks back, scratching his scalp as they go. Peter likes it, it reminds him of . . .

His eyes snap open, taking a second to readjust before he can truly grasp what was going on. Mr Stark was leaning over him, his face relaxed yet there was a look of worry in his brown eyes.

“There you are kiddo,” Tony smiles as Peter begins to sit up, the hand in his hair moving to help him up. Peter looks around, noticing that he was in his room at the compound. The blue walls with the Star Wars posters and Spider-Man themed lamps stand out. The smell of his web fluid is in the air, a small web hammock designed in the left corner of his room up by the ceiling. 

“Wh-what?” Peter frowns, confusion kicking in. Was he still in the past? Surely not, he’d felt the usual pain of his body extracting itself from the wrong time and stitching itself up into the present. And the Tony before him didn’t look like the one he’d seen in the lab everyday: his hair was greyer and there were more lines on his face. 

Yet this Tony didn’t have a look of grief in his eye like the one of the battlefield had.

“Mr Stark?” Peter grabbed his head, feeling so lost. What was going on?

“Woah, we’re back to Mr Stark are we?” Tony’s voice was light but there was a frown on his face. “Peter, calm down,” he pulls the kid’s hands away from his face, making him look him in the eye. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Peter nods; he always believes Tony. “What happened?”

“You hit your head when training,” Tony brushes some hair out of Peter’s face again. “You were out cold for a good ten minutes. Its fine though, Bruce looked you over. He says you only have a mild concussion.”

Peter frowns, trying to remember what Tony was talking about. The last he remembered was crying into the man’s shoulder as the pain had consumed him, taking him away from the past. But surely this was still the past if Tony was here?

“What happened?”

“I told you kid—“

“No,” Peter shakes his head, the movement feeling hard due to how heavy his neck felt to move. “Thanos. What happened with Thanos?”

A look overcomes Tony’s face as he finally begins to understand. “Ah,” he sighs, shuffling closer and placing his hand in Peter’s hair, the way he knew to calm him down or stop him freaking out. “I’ll admit that i’m not an expert on time travel but i did speak to a Doctor who is. Strange says that you managed to find a tear in the time-space continuum which time traveled you back to my labs, back before Thanos.”

Peter nods his head, blinking several times. “Y-yeah! The weird, black, alien hole thing!”

Tony smirks at his phrasing. “Yeah kiddo.”

“So . . . what happened? You realised that i’d time travelled and what?”

“I called the Avengers.”

Peter’s mouth opens. “What?”

Tony shrugs, a small smile on his face. “I called the Avengers, yeah. I called Steve and told him about everything. We made up and we started to prepare. When Thanos came, we were ready.”

“So the snap?”

“Never happened,” Tony smiles. “We defeated him in Wakanda before he could even get the stone out of Vision’s head.”

Peter swallows hard, tears pooling up in his eyes. “So you didn’t die . . .”

“No kid, i’m still around to annoy the hell out of you,” Tony jokes. Peter suddenly leaps on him, wrapping his arms around his mentor and taking in the feeling of Tony wrapping his arms around Peter too. They stay like that for a while, both taking in the other’s presence. 

“And it’s all because of you kid,” Tony mumbles into his hair, kissing his temple.

“Me?” Peter frowns, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.  
“Yes, you. You came back to me each day, even though going through that portal hurt like hell. You told me about the future— a risky move, sure. But it paid off.”

“I just wanted to see you,” Peter sighed. “I didn’t care about the consequences.”

Tony kissed his temple again. “God, i love you Pete.”

Peter squeezed his eyes tighter, his fists curling up in Tony’s clothes as he pushed himself to be closer. He missed him so much. And now everything seemed fine.

Already, those months of grief felt like a really bad dream. The battle on Titan felt like something he’d made up in his head and the last fight with Thanos seemed like a distant memory— one he couldn’t quite grasp.

Other memories filled his head: the words of “we won” being repeated as the sun set on an African country, the hugs and kisses of people as they celebrated the success, the words “i got you kid” as he finally rested after a hard battle. 

Peter remembers the 5 years that he’d missed when dusted. He saw messing around with Ned, telling MJ he liked her, MJ saying it back, graduating top of his class with Tony and May cheering the loudest from the crowd. 

He remembers when Morgan was born, the baby being placed in his arms with Tony whispering “meet your little sister, Pete” in his ear. He remembers watching her grow from infant to overly excitable 5 year old. 

He remembers enrolling at MIT, sharing a dorm with Ned, acing his classes. His first drink on his 21st, Tony handing him his first beer with a proud smile. May’s smile as she watched him go from teenager to man. 

Training with the Avengers. 

Spider-Man becoming an official Avenger.

Tony telling him he loved him, admitting that he saw Peter like a son.

Pepper and Tony joining May in officially adopting him.

Morgan’s first word being “bubba” in an attempt to say ‘brother’.

Getting hurt in a fight as Spider-Man, having both May and Tony sit by his bed for a week as he recovered.

Telling MJ he loved her. Her saying it back.

Ned holding his hair back as Peter threw up after a party. Tony phoning the next day to laugh at his stupidity.

The Avengers treating him like a younger sibling, Sam and Bucky cracking jokes each time he walks into a room.

He remembers 5 years of Christmases, 5 years of movie nights and 5 years of love.

Peter sighs into Tony’s neck, his heart finally resting. The pain he’d been carrying since he’d been dusted and un-dusted, finally disappearing.

He can’t wait for more years with his family.

**Author's Note:**

> did u notice the rocky horror picture show reference? :))
> 
> okay so now this is done, i'm going to focus on my other fics that i've been ignoring lately ugh i'm sorry :((
> 
> i know endgame talks about how if u change the past it doesn't change your future, instead it creates an alternate dimension. well, you can either read this in the way that peter's managed to create an alternate timeline where endgame never happens or say screw it to endgame's rules and have him change the future;
> 
> also steve isn't mentioned bc u can choose for urself if he's still chilling with the avengers or back in the 40s/50s with peggy. i couldn't decide what to do so it's up to y'all
> 
> pls comment ur love :)


End file.
